Failed Attempts
by Skillet-Writer
Summary: Mr. Krabs and Mrs. Puff have been dating for a very long time, but still have yet to share their first kiss. Circumstances seem to always play against them in their intimate moments, but can that change on one terribly awkward date? Krabs x Puff (Kruff) WARNING: frequent cursing.


**Hey, ya'll. I've been working on this beauty periodically since April 24th, during my spring break, and I'm proud to finally publish the first part. I thought it was too good to cram into "SpongeBob SquarePants Funshots", so I gave it its own story. I was really getting into shipping Kruff at the time, and did some tedious research on the relationship. I ended up researching their pet names for eachother and cheesy stuff like that, and went so far as research types of food dishes and drinks to incooperate into the story. A lot of effort and detail went into the making of "Failed Attempts", so please be sure to leave a review! Thanks. Now enjoy this tale of awkward romance!**

* * *

Mr. Krabs sat anxiously at a table, dressed in an attractive tuxedo with a striking purple bow tie. Tonight was the night he was going to make his move and finally plant one on "sweet Mrs. Puff".

Everything was planned perfectly. There would be a most delectable dinner: a bowl of calamari, some recherché sea biscuits, and a delicious plate of Indian Ocean seagrass smothered in rich, red algae.

It all sounds very expensive, and it was. Fancy! was a diner of high-class, and you couldn't expect to spend anything less than fifty bucks in one sitting. Reserving a table there may have required a fraught Mr. Krabs to take three weeks of therapy and some meditation with Squidward in order to suppress his hindering addiction to money, but it was worth it if it meant taking his darling Mrs. Puff on a romantic, cheap-free date.

"Aargh," he sighed, as he rested his chin in the palms of his claws. Mrs. Puff was running a bit late. It was to be expected, however, as she always wanted to look her very best. "Get here soon, my prickly peach," he mused.

A couple of minutes later, a familiar voice was heard entering the restaurant. It was none other than —you guessed it!— the beloved Mrs. Puff. She was clad in her usual attire for the most part, but in place of her red skirt she wore a lengthy, blue skirt to match her shirt of the same color. This made it appear as if she was wearing a dress. She'd also put on some red lipstick that complimented her shoes.

Mr. Krabs sat up properly as soon as he heard her voice. "Poppy!" he called, waving her down. "I've reserved us a table!" His jaw dropped when his aging eyes were finally able to behold the figure sashaying toward him, and all he could manage was a weak _"damn"_.

"Eugene," said Mrs. Puff as she took her seat at the table, "you're too kind!" She observed the restaurant, taking in the truly _fancy_ atmosphere that Fancy! presented. Mr. Krabs, she noted, was equally snazzy (if not snazzier). "It means a lot that you would do something like this for me."

Mr. Krabs smiled and reached over from his side of the table to place his claw on her delicate fin. "No need to thank me, Puff. Anything's worth doing for ye." He took delight in the giggling she produced, and tittered with her.

A waiter eventually came around to the table to take their orders. "And what can I get for the lovely couple?" asked the formally dressed fellow, a purple fish with a dark mullet.

Mr. Krabs and Mrs. Puff shared a warm look that said, _"So we really DO look like a couple, don't we?"_, before Krabs spoke up, a menu in his claw. "Errr," he started, going over the meal plan in his head, "we'll have the um... Let's see, here." He fumbled with the embroidered paper. "We'll take, the uh, cal_er_mari with—"

"Calamari, Eugene?" said Mrs. Puff, a questioning tone in her voice. "Sounds a little _exotic_, don't you think?"

"That's right, too exotic!" he stuttered. "Guess we can cross sea biscuits off the list, too... Ah, barnacles, what was the— the thing with the kelp..." His eyes lit up. "Oh! For the main cour—"

The waiter cut in, attempting to make it easier on poor Krabs. (That, or the guy was really impatient.) "How's about we start you off with one of our appetizers?"

The crab looked to his date for a nod of affirmation before proceeding to order. "Sure. What do ye got for these app_er_tizers ye speak of?"

"Well, among your choices are squid nuggets, grilled kelp bites, fried oyster skins, crab chowder (a personal favorite of mine), kelp s—"

"H-how about Indian Ocean seagrass?" Mr. Krabs stammered, looking quite uncomfortable at the mention of crab on the menu.

"Sir, that is not available as an appetizer."

"Oh."

"If you'll let me _finish_, we also have kelp slaw, garlic butter shrimp, and crispy sea salt fries."

"Crispy sea salt fries, Poppy?"

Mrs. Puff frowned. "Not to be picky, Eugene, but fries? That's a little underwhelming, especially on a date as fine as this. We can get fries anywhere, really."

"Ah, shrimp, you're right."

The waiter whipped out a notepad and jotted something down. "So you'll be having the garlic butter shrimp, then?"

"N-no, I mean... yes?" He facepalmed inwardly. "What I mean is, see, I was using one of them fancy euph_er_misms, and—"

The waiter raised an eyebrow. "Uh..."

Mr. Krabs, in his efforts to make the date go smoothly, was sweating a bit under the collar. His painfully obvious struggle to order prompted Mrs. Puff to step in. "Scratch that. We'll just take the squid nuggets. Sorry about that."

The waiter mumbled under his breath something about low-class time-wasters before walking away with the order.

"_Squid_ nuggets, Poppy?"

"I know what I said earlier about the calamari, but we needed to order something, and squid nuggets don't sound _too_ crazy. They're just outlandish enough. You may like 'em."

"I suppose."

"Yeah."

Mr. Krabs sat up stiffly, a fake smile plastered on his face. His blushing was hidden by his red exoskeleton, and for that he was thankful. What he was not thankful for, however, was the awkward silence present at the table. The lack of conversation was gnawing at his confidence. "So, uh... The waiter was nice."

"Yeah, right," Mrs. Puff mumbled, rolling her eyes. "_He_ was a ray of sunshine. Acted like he cared, but the man was probably cursing us on the insi..." she trailed off.

Mr. Krabs looked unhappy, to say the least. She could not only see that he was anxious, but he was clearly embarrassed as well. His eyes were drooping a bit, like the bow tie on his tux. He was chewing his lip, at a loss for words. Maybe he was inwardly cursing himself, or perhaps he was regretting the sum of money he was spending tonight. Mrs. Puff wasn't entirely sure, but she knew that whatever was bothering him, she needed to address it.

"Are you alright, Eugene?"

He looked up, forcing a smile. "Just butterflies, is all," he lied. —Well, not entirely. He did have butterflies. It's just that they weren't the reason for his emotions, they were the result of them.

"I know things haven't gone as you'd hoped they would," she tried to get through to him, "but just think of it this way: it's only the appetizer. You have plenty of time to decide the main course right now. Don't fret, honey."

Mr. Krabs shouldn't have been taken aback. He really shouldn't have. In fact, he should've been heeding his date's comforting words and figuring out what to eat. But Mr. Krabs, even after dating Puff for so long, was still surprised that she called him _honey_. Pet names were typical, but "honey" was a bit more intimate.

"Oh, Puffily Poo," he sighed.

Mrs. Puff chuckled, putting aside the fact that he disregarded everything she just told him. Mr. Krabs was an interesting guy, and she thought he was cute when he was out of sorts. She had to sigh, too. "Oh, Eugene."

Mr. Krabs looked his sweetheart up and down. The concerned look on her face had left her, and was replaced with a pleasant smile that was highlighted by her bright lipstick. He was awestruck by her charming appearance; her noticeable eye bags did not take away from her beauty.

He almost wanted to try it, almost wanted to make his move. The table was clear of objects, save for two glasses of ice water that had been present the whole time, and Krabs had room to lean over towards his date. Considering the come-hither look in her eyes, it seemed like the appropriate time to go in for the kill. —The kiss, that is.

Mrs. Puff knew immediately what Krabs wanted. The debating purse of his lips gave it away. _'He knows he wants to kiss me,'_ she thought, _'so why doesn't he just go for it? We've tried plenty of times before.'_

—And then it hit her.

**_TRIED_**

"Hun, you don't have to be antsy about everything tonight. Just being here in your presence is good enough for me." She let out a content-sounding breath for emphasis, and relaxed her body. "No awkward moment of yours could change how I feel about you, Eugene. You took time out of your day to do something special for me, and that alone is romantic." She reached over and tilted his head up seductively to gaze into his large eyestalks, the look in them hesitant but amused nonetheless. "Now give Poppy some sugar."

She leaned in, puckered her lips, and gently pulled in her baby's face, before—

"Here are your appetizers."

The couple bumped heads accidentally and jerked their faces back, frenzied.

"Neptune's trousers!" Krabs exclaimed, startled and angry. He began frantically searching for some napkins. He ground his teeth, evidently pissed off, and rightly so. His expensive tuxedo was soaked with cold water, his cup having spilled. The linen handkerchiefs were of no use. "To hell with it, where are the napkins?"

"Eugene, it's _alright_," Puff stressed.

The throbbing heart in his chest pounded at his rib cage as if to escape. The butterflies in his stomach gnawed at his insides as if they were lined with milkweed. "Aargh, damn this."

Fish at nearby tables had turned their heads to glare at the cursing crab and his little mishap. Some had their noses upturned saying, "Well, _I never_", while others laughed snidely.

"If you'll _excuse_ me," said the waiter, an exasperated tone in his voice. He seemed to lack any empathy for the couple's misfortune. Without another word he picked up Krabs' empty glass and set it aside, not offering him a second.

Mrs. Puff didn't take kindly to that. "No, if you'll excuse _me_, I think it would be decent of you to get him another drink." She crossed her arms, looking quite unamused by the waiter's subtle disrespect.

"Ma'am—" he snapped.

"Sir," she retorted, before he could finish.

"What do you think this is, charity? No free refills." He set down the appetizer and left, visibly flustered.

The small tray of tiny, mouthwatering squid nuggets sat in the middle of the table, amidst the puddles of water. Their weird tentacle shape was coated in a crispy, golden brown that resembled that of a fry's. There were a few napkins on the tray as well.

Mr. Krabs instantly reached out for the napkins, and once he had an adequate amount, began to sop up the mess on the table. There was no saving the tux, for it had been completely soaked, and no amount of napkins could fix it. What did it matter, anyway? They were underwater. Sure, the spilled liquid was cold, but he couldn't get too out of sorts. He had to worry about his date.

"Sorry about that, sweetie. I'm a klutz." He hung his head. Tears leaked from his eyes like the water dripping slowly from the edge of the table. "All I wanted was to..."

Mrs. Puff squinted her eyes, waiting for him to continue. When she realized he was only mumbling, she said to him, "Eugene, you're no klutz. It wasn't your fault, it was the fault of that Nep-damn waiter." She reached for a nugget, licking her glossy lips. "Open up."

Mr. Krabs perked up instantly and leaned towards her, the hungry, internal butterflies going wild with anticipation. He opened his mouth to reveal slightly crooked teeth and minty-fresh breath. The flavor of mint met the greasy taste of chewy flesh as Puff delivered a squid nugget to her date's agape smile.

"Mmm..." He greedily munched on the crispy meat, smacking his lips all the while. He talked like a pirate, he ate like a pirate. Mr. Krabs was quite the fellow, and Mrs. Puff was really into men such as himself. There was just something about his demeanor that she practically swooned over.

"How is it?"

"Delicious."

"In that case..." She reached for the tray and grabbed another squid nugget, which she popped into her mouth and chewed. The salty coating hit her tastebuds with an overwhelming _POW!_ and she loved it.

The appetizer really shouldn't be this good, it really shouldn't. It's just a plate of snacks to hold you over, right? One could argue that it was just the superb quality of the restaurant, but perhaps it was the savory vibe surrounding the couple that was giving these treats such a delightful taste. With all the giggling and flirtatious actions, it was certainly up for debate.

A few minutes later, the waiter returned to take orders.

"May I offer you something to drink?" he asked Krabs, forcing a smile that was less than excited. Working at Fancy! meant good paychecks, and only a select few people were chosen as worthy waiters and waitresses. —Couldn't afford to eff up the big bucks due to unfriendly demeanor and a bad attitude.

"Er, what do ye have?"

"Kelp juice, seahorse milk, cola, ke—"

"Alcoholic beverages?"

The waiter exhaled loudly. "Sewer Splash, Pressed Kelp beer, Signature Algae wine, seaweed wine, Aquarium Fizz... That's about it."

"Oo, Eugene! Let's try Aquarium Fizz. I heard it's one of Fancy!'s finest drinks." Mrs. Puff's fins were tightly balled into a pleading fist. She was biting her lip furiously. "It's supposed to be really good."

Krabs looked at his date and shrugged. "I was gonna request good ol' Pressed Kelp, but to hell with it. Aquarium Fizz does sound pretty good." He looked to the waiter. "We'll take it."

"And for your main course?"

"We decided on Indian Ocean seagrass."

"Ah, that's a favorite. Would you like a side with that?"

"Sea biscuits!" Krabs said, licking his lips in reminisce of the taste. He used to snack on them back in his days in the Navy, when food was scarce.

"So that's I.O. seagrass, hardtacks..." Pen met paper. "And for you, ma'am? You also get to choose a side." He turned to Mrs. Puff.

"I'll take the caramel kelp noodles, please. Thanks." She avoided eye contact with the man, pretending to be really occupied with her menu. "Gilbert", his name tag read. She didn't like Gil's presence. His monotone voice and subtle disrespect irked her.

"I'll take those menus, now," the waiter (now recognized as Gilbert) said. He took the menu from Krabs' claw and then proceeded to snatch Puff's menu out from between her fins in an unnecessarily rough fashion.

Mrs. Puff was appalled, but kept her mouth shut. Once Gilbert had left the table, she leaned towards Krabs and whispered, "Hey, did you see what that son of a bitch just did?"

A bit taken aback by her cursing, he replied, "N-no, I didn't. Was he rude?"

"Oh, yes. Very. He just tore my menu from my grasp without warning. When we get out of here, I'm sending a complaint to the restaurant manager about this bastard."

"Barnacles, Puffily Poo, I'm sorry this isn't going as one would hope it would. But I don't want you to dwell on the negative stuff, either, so why don't you talk about something you like. —Tell me about Boating School this week."

Mrs. Puff nodded, and bit her lip in thought for a moment. She rested her chin on her fin as she thought about what to say. "Well, Eugene, this week's been pretty average. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trying to teach the kids, some learn, some don't. I actually had a kid come in during the last five minutes of class with a late pass on Tuesday!" She snorted. "What a hoot!"

"And how about SpongeBob?" asked Krabs. "Is still he giving you trouble?"

Her eyes went wide, and she gulped. "D-did you say, S-S-SpongeBob?"

"Yeah, only me greatest fry cook ever. Heh."

"Well, uh... the boy's still trying. Every school day he's there, each and every school day. E-every day. He's always on time, always in his seat with them big eyes, staring into my poor, d-dying soul. The soul that suffers every day from trauma. The soul that can't turn right at the light anym-more without suffering from a p-panic attack. The soul that wishes nothing more than for SpongeBob to pass him Neptune-damn driver's test so that I can teach in peace for the first time in years and never have to worry about the police locking me up because some yellow freak couldn't just put it in gear and— _**SPONGEBOB, HIT THE FUCKING BREAK!**_"

Mrs. Puff was looking pale, but her cheeks were a hot red. Her buggy eyes were on the "road" in front of her, and her fins steered an imaginary wheel as her foot repeatedly slammed into a nonexistent break. "Right, SpongeBob!" she screamed, causing the people within earshot to stare. "Your _other_ right!"

Mr. Krabs buried his head in his claws, embarrassed and wanting to cry. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Typos will be fixed shortly. Let me know if the detail was good and the emotion was felt! :)**


End file.
